s*x after a concert was hurried, angry, both men f*****g away the last of the night’s adrenaline. Corey preferred the morning after, when he woke in the safety of Ian’s arms, held close in his lover’s enveloping embrace. When pale light filtered through the curtains of the hotel room, when muted sounds from the hallway indicated the rest of the world was awake while they still slumbered. If they didn’t have to rush to the next city, the next show, Corey took his time waking, letting consciousness slowly replace the jumble of dreams that filled his sleeping mind. He would move beside Ian, tentative at first, then more sure of himself as he woke—a hand here, a touch there, fingers curving around tender skin, until Ian moaned and shifted closer to Corey.
Mornings were a promise between them,
